


A Golden Jubilee

by lilsherlockian1975



Series: Lil Bit of Sherlolly [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Molly's Confused, Mycroft's a Tricky MoFo, Outdoor Sex, Sherlock's in Trouble, Sherlolly - Freeform, Tiny bit of Angst, Tumblr Prompt, anniversary party, i did a thing, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/pseuds/lilsherlockian1975
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From MrsMCrieff: Here's a prompt for you Lil, it's Mr and Mrs Holmes' 50th Wedding Anniversary and they're hosting a summer garden party to celebrate. Sherlock and Mycroft are under the cosh to bring a plus one. Sherlock's is Molly, I'm happy for you to pick Mycroft's. MrsM xxx</p><p>Sherlock does indeed take Molly to the party, then shenanigans ensue...That's pretty much it in a nutshell!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Golden Jubilee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsMCrieff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMCrieff/gifts).



> MrsMCrieff meant to add the request for smutty times on the prompt (I'm not making that up... I can show you the Facebook messages!) So here it is! There MAY be a surprise guest in attendance at the party... I'm just sayin'. *Hey Mrs, there is at least ONE Easter Egg... let's see if you can find it!*
> 
> The lovely and eternally patient MizJoely beta'd this for me. She a treasure!
> 
> This one was supposed to be 'smut lite', but according to Miz I failed miserable at that. (She's not even a little wrong!)
> 
> I own nothing. Okay... that might not be entirely true... hmmmm. Enjoy. ~Lil~

Sherlock oscillated on the well worn tile floor outside the path lab, watching as Molly carefully examined cells under her microscope. He wasn't accustomed to nerves. This was a very unfamiliar feeling. Finally, after about five minutes, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Ah Molly! What are you working on today?" he asked with faked enthusiasm.

"Hi Sherlock. Just some routine blood work for Dr. Smithson. Your station's free." She tilted her head toward the empty spot designated as 'his'.

"Well actually, I need to ask you something." He smiled, or tried to.

She stopped what she was doing and gave him her full attention. "Sure, what's going on?"

"My parents are having a, ah, party. An anniversary party... thing. Their 50th to be exact." He drug his nail along a scratch on the table top. It was fascinating, that scratch. "And Mummy has asked that we, Mycroft and I, not get them gifts. Nothing. Only that we bring..." He finally looked her into the eyes once again and swallowed. "Dates."

Molly thinned her lips and stared at the man. "O-kay."

"Right. So, I'm asking... you. That is I'm asking you to be my... date."

"Um..."

"She was quite specific. It has to be a _real_ date. A person I'd date, if I did that sort of thing- which I most certainly do not."

The pathologist continued to stare for several moments. "And I'm a person that you'd date, _if_ you... dated?"

"I believe I just said that, Molly." He clasped his hands behind his back. "So, it's Saturday evening. A garden party. The dress code is casual. The blue floral number paired with your white cardigan should do. And wear flats. You have enough problems on lino in anything with a heel. Their garden will surely prove deadly if you attempt anything higher. I'll pick you up at seven." He started to leave then remembered something. He added, "Thank you," then continued on his way. He only allowed himself a relieved sigh once he was halfway down the hall.

* * *

They arrived, after an uncomfortably quiet hour-long ride in the back of a government car, at Sherlock's parent's house. Molly was terribly nervous. It hadn't helped one bit that Sherlock had played with his mobile and completely ignored her during the entire trip. But now they were walking through groups of people, Sherlock a few steps ahead of her.

Finally he turned to her. "Okay. There's Mummy. Act natural."

"How else would I act?" Molly asked, a bit bewildered.

"Mmmm."

"Oh Sherlock, you brought her!" the woman exclaimed as she approached. "Don't you look dashing?" She hugged him tightly.

Molly giggled at the exchange.

"Of course I did, Mummy. I told you I would." He pulled back. "This is Dr. Molly Hooper."

"She's adorable!" Mrs. Holmes said as she looked Molly over. She took both of Molly's hands. "Thank you so much for coming." She hugged her just as tightly as she had her own son.

"Oh!" Molly said, completely taken by surprise. "It's my pleasure."

"Mummy, let her breathe."

Mrs. Holmes released the woman. "Father!" she yelled as she turned.

Sherlock gave Molly an apologetic look, then shocked the life out of her by taking her hand in his as his father approached.

"Look, Sherlock brought her! He brought Molly!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed.

His dad smiled brightly. "The famous Molly Hooper. I am honored." He took Molly's other hand and kissed the back of it.

"Um..." She giggled nervously. "F-famous?"

"Oh yes dear, we've been hearing about you for years," the older man explained.

Molly didn't quite know what to do with this information. But Sherlock tightened his grip on her hand and changed the subject. "Is he here?" he asked his parents.

"You know he is, Sherlock," his mother answered with a roll of her eyes. _Well, now I know where he gets_ that, she thought.

"And?" was his impatient response as he dropped Molly's hand and shoved both his into his pockets.

"Oh, Sherlock. Of course he brought a date. As if he'd disappoint Mother or allow you to win." Mr. Holmes shook his head. "You boys and your competition." He looked at Molly then back to his son. "Good Heaven's Sherlock, your girl doesn't even have a cocktail!" He took her hand. "I promise I did _try_ to raise him right. Come on, what's your poison?"

Sherlock quickly intervened. "I'll take care of that, Dad." He put a hand on the small of Molly's back and directed her to the bar and away from his parents.

Once there he ordered himself a scotch on the rocks and Molly a Brandy Alexander, not surprising her in the least that he knew her favorite drink. "Listen Sherlock, what's going on? Why do your parents seem to know about me?" The bartender handed Molly her drink, which she gratefully took.

"Ah, well I've mentioned you, obviously." He took a large drink of the scotch that had just appeared at his elbow.

"Okay... why?"

Suddenly he gleefully exclaimed, "Look there's Mycroft!" Then he drained the rest of his drink. "Let's go torment him." He grabbed her hand, dragging her away.

* * *

Sherlock had never been so happy to see his big brother in his life. This night was getting completely out of hand. First of all, Molly hadn't worn the frumpy blue dress as he'd told her to. NO. She'd gone out and purchased a skimpy yellow thing. No doubt associating yellow as the traditional colour of the 50th anniversary, so sentimental, so Molly. He really should have seen that coming: yellow roses, golden anniversary.. _. God, she looks beautiful in yellow_. Not to mention she hadn't even worn a cardigan, leaving her soft pale skin far too exposed. _Cruel!_ The trip to his parents had been excruciating. He'd spent the entire time looking up photos of headless corpses just to keep from launching himself at the poor woman. And now, in the soft lighting of the party his control was slipping. It didn't help one bit that his parents were clearly in love with her, not that he blamed them, not one bit.

Oh yes, he was in trouble.

"Mykey!" he said as he walked up to the older man. "I see you've found the buffet."

Mycroft turned around, cocktail shrimp in hand. "Ahhh, Miss Hooper. What a surprise!" he said dripping with sarcasm, before taking a generous bite.

"And where has your lovely companion gotten off to?" Sherlock asked looking around.

"Powder room."

"Is she still on the clock or..?"

Mycroft laughed. "No, brother dear. Of that you can be certain."

Suddenly Sherlock felt a punch to his left arm. "Hey Sherly!"

"Lillian?"

"That's all I get? Shit, it's been fifteen years. Give us a hug." Sherlock suddenly found himself embraced by the buxom brunette.

"You were expecting someone else, weren't you?" Mycroft asked with a smile then popped a crudités in his mouth.

"Nobody likes a sore winner, Myke," the tall woman scolded. "Who's this little beauty?" she said looking at Molly.

"Ah, Molly. Molly Hooper," a dazed Sherlock answered.

Lillian shook Molly's hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Lillian. Obviously. I've known the boys for years. Met them while they were staying at my hotel in the States." She leaned in. "There was a mystery, if you can believe it. Myke and I hit it off over our mutual love of all things breakfast." Then she cut her eyes to the bureaucrat.

Sherlock turned to Mycroft. "You flew her in just so you wouldn't have to get an _actual_ date?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't break any rules. If she lived here I'd have happily married Lillian, years ago."

"As if I'd have ya," Lillian commented. "You're lucky I have a very trusting husband. Come on, I need a drink. Also I promised to show your mom photos of my family." She pulled him away, then looked over her shoulder and said, "Nice to meet you Molly. You two have fun!" She winked as she walked away with a very smug Mycroft.

"That cheating bastard," Sherlock mumbled. "He picked someone he couldn't possibly date... or..." He stared after the pair.

"She seems... nice."

"Mmmm. Bit more of her now than the last time I saw her. At least two kids. Very happily married. Mycroft will pay for this. I assumed he'd bring Anthea." He continued to puzzle over his brother's treachery.

"Um, soooo... Back to my question..."

"Perhaps I could make him jealous. I could set Anthea up on a date. How does one do that, I wonder?"

"Sherlock?"

"Do I even know any single men? Oh yes! Grant! Perfect!" he exclaimed, now completely lost in his thoughts as he formed his plan. Time seemed to lose all meaning. Several minutes passed, how many he didn't know. He came out of his mind and looked around, but Molly was nowhere to be seen. _Oh bugger_ , he thought.

He asked both his parents and the Watsons, who had arrived a little late due to a babysitting issue, but no one had seen her. After a few minutes of searching he found her on the far side of the house, away from the party. She'd found a secluded spot, a gazebo actually. Sherlock cursed himself for not thinking of it immediately.

"Molly," he said as he approached. "Why'd you leave?"

She was sitting, her legs tucked under herself, looking off into the distance. "Why am I here Sherlock?" she asked, never looking at him even as he sat down next to her.

He immediately considered retreating, running back to the party and avoiding Molly _and_ her question altogether. But that wasn't fair, even he knew that. He sighed. "I told you..."

"I've heard your _explanation_. But," She turned and planted her feet on the ground half facing him. "I still don't understand why your parents seem to know all about me or..." She paused and bit at her lip. "What you said about how you'd date me, _if_ you dated? How was that supposed to make me feel, Sherlock? Really, we're back to lying and manipulating again?"

Sherlock lurched forward grabbing Molly's face in his large hands. "I wasn't lying, Molly." He licked his lips as he realised just how close they'd ended up.

She furrowed her brow. "Of course you were. You didn't want to disappoint your mother or risk showing up without a date and losing face in front of Mycroft," she said, her tone accusatory.

He shook his head. "No, you're wrong."

"Stop." She jerked her head back and faced forward once again. "You didn't mean it. You've told me what you think of me enough times. I know..."

"What Molly? The truth?"

She shook her head, refusing to look at him.

"Would you like to know?" he asked as he watched Molly bite her lip. He could tell she was a scared to find out, but he continued anyway. "Your hair..." He reached up and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. "...does look better parted on the side. Or as least I prefer it that way. Actually, I quite like it down, but that's not very practical while performing autopsies. And I _do_ like it when you wear lipstick." _I always think about kissing it off of you,_ he added in his mind _._ "Every compliment I've ever paid you, even if they seemed flippant or manipulative, were genuine."

Molly had turned and was staring at him with big, wet eyes. "And the insults?" she whispered.

"What insults?"

"My weight?"

"What...? Right. Those three pounds..."

"Two."

He smiled. "Had gone right to your bottom." He swallowed. "God I wanted to grab it. Touch it. I wanted him to _take his hands off of you,_ " he said through gritted teeth.

Molly's mouth was hanging open and she was breathing deeply. She stared at him a few moments longer, finally she spoke again, "And the party. My mouth and br-breasts?"

Sherlock closed his eyes. Just the mention of that regretful evening caused his chest to tighten. "I was feeling very conflicted that evening, Molly. Confused. The case..."

"That woman?"

"Well, yes, there was all of that. But then you came in and suddenly I was jealous again, just like with _him_. John and Lestrade, they were practically drooling. I didn't mean... What I said was horrible, and I didn't mean a word of it. You looked beautiful. And I should have told you so."

"Why have you kept this from me?"

He quickly shook his head, looking away from her. He scooted away from her, needing some distance between them before he did something they both regretted. "Because I can't. You're going to marry a nice boring dentist and move away. You'll have three children. Two cats and a dog." He was looking forward, but he felt Molly moving closer. "You will grow old and live a long and happy life. Without me. That's how this is supposed to go." He was trembling, he couldn't stop himself, couldn't control the emotions that had surfaced; they'd been building all evening.

"What if that's not what I want?" she asked.

"Tough."

Suddenly Molly placed herself on his lap, straddling his legs. " _Molly_ ," he warned.

"Shut up!" she said as she lowered her head. "I don't want those things."

"But you love cats."

She laughed.

He shook his head. "We can't have this." And even though he said it, he gripped her thighs tightly.

"Why not?" she asked as she threaded her fingers through his hair, causing him to purr.

 _Oh fuck_... he suddenly forgot all the reasons he'd come up with over the years. "Ahh, be-because I'm... me? Because I'm an addict?" he added quickly.

She sigh, rolled her eyes and smiled.

"My work, it's dangerous..."

"Why would that matter?" She kissed his neck.

His brain was short-circuiting but he still tried to fight. "I'll huuurt you. I'll f-forget things and stufffff. Oh God, Molly," he said in a breathy voice that he hardly recognized.

Molly giggled as she nibbled and licked his skin.

His tenuous control was all but gone, he had to stop this. "Molly, we can't." _Weak, very weak_ , he thought.

"We can, Sherlock," she whispered in his ear sending shivers down his spine. "And we will. I'm in love with you, you great idiot. And if I'm reading this correctly, you're in love with me too. Unless it's all just physical?" She pulled back to look him in the eyes.

He looked at her, so perfectly Molly with her big brown eyes, dimples he wanted to lick, and the cutest fucking nose he'd ever seen in his life. He'd been fighting this for so long he didn't even know why anymore. She was right, he was in love with her. Every bit of her. From her awful humor to her precision with a scalpel. Oh God, he'd surely mess this up... "Molly, I'm afraid."

She dragged her fingers through his hair then brought her hands to his cheeks. "Afraid of what, Sherlock?"

"Losing you."

"You just told me I was supposed to move away and have a house full of someone else's kids. What would you have done if that had happened?"

"Died a little." He answered without thinking, because he knew it was true. "But you would've been happy, I could have survived on that knowledge alone." He watched as a fat tear rolled down her flushed cheek.

"I don't want anyone else's babies Sherlock. If I can't have yours, I'll die in a house full of cats. I'll be found days later, after I've been nibbled on by my hungry pets."

He broke out in laughter. "That was horrible." Taking a deep breath he said, "God I love you." It felt so good to say it out loud, he had to say it again. "I do. I love you, Molly Hooper."

She didn't respond, just closed the distance and pressed her lips firmly against his. Sherlock wasted no time, pulling her even closer, needing to feel every inch of her body against his own. Angling her head, Molly never gave up control of the kiss, she licked his lips sweetly. He gladly opened his mouth as she slid her tongue in with a whimper.

The very idea that he was sitting underneath his mother's gazebo, at his parent's anniversary party, never crossed his mind as he moved his hands to Molly's ass.. and squeezed. The only thought on Sherlock's mind was, _Finally_.

She broke the kiss with a giggle then kissed her way across his cheek until her sweet lips found his earlobe and she sucked it into her mouth. He thought the moment couldn't get any better until he felt Molly palming his erection through his dress trousers. As he thrust up into her small hand he found himself wanting- needing- more of her. The strappy dress soon made his dream a reality as he fumbled with the zipper. He pushed one strap off easily but couldn't manage the other as Molly hadn't let go of his length.

"A little help?" he whispered.

"Oh, sorry," was her breathy response as she finally removed her hand. Then he pushed the top of the dress down, exposing her strapless bra. No patience for actual removal, he simply shoved the garment further down on her waist and dove into her small but lovely breasts. Molly's soft cries and not so gentle treatment of his hair was all the encouragement he needed to know he was doing something right. She was clearly enjoying herself, but soon her hand returned to his cock and he found himself desperate for release.

Rucking up her skirt until he found her damp knickers he said, "Molly, your bag! Tell me there's a condom in there!" He worked until he'd moved them aside and got first one then two fingers inside her core. This unfortunately inhibited her ability to answer his _very_ important question. Frankly, he didn't much care, at least for a few moments.

Molly dug her nails into his shoulders so hard he could feel them through his suit jacket. "Oh God, Sherlock that feels amazing. God your hands!"

He pulled her toward him and kissed her as he felt her orgasm approaching, swallowing her cries, relishing each one.

As she came down from her high he kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her adorable fucking nose, then asked once again, "Molly, not trying to rush things, and if you're not ready I understand..."

"No, I didn't bring a condom," she managed as her breathing normalized.

Sherlock's heart sank. "Oh well, of course."

Then she looked at him with an absolute twinkle in her eye that had nothing to do with her post orgasmic glow. "You said, what, three children? Might as well get started." She raised a challenging eyebrow.

He swallowed. Then he tried to think of an argument, but really was in no fit state. "You're right, I did, didn't I?"

Molly hopped up and started removing her knickers. She looked up at him and said, "Well, come on. I assume you know how this works. Those need to come off," she said pointing to his lap. Her tone was teasing and light but it snapped Sherlock out of his shock.

Once he had his trousers and pants shoved down a bit, Molly wasted no time climbing back onto his lap and taking his length in hand. "Oh God, Molly. I- I... fuck!" Then suddenly he was enveloped Molly's warm welcoming heat.

He threw his head back and tried to catalog every sensation, but it was pointless, so he gave up and quite literally enjoyed the ride. Somehow he had the presence of mind to ask if her legs were okay, to which she laughed and kissed him enthusiastically in response. When she told him she was close and ordered him to come, he'd never been so quick to follow instructions in his life.

Though she hadn't thought to bring contraceptives she did have a handbag full of facial tissues. They cleaned up a bit before she crawled back into his lap, her legs draped across his.

"Your knees," he said as he looked down at the angry red marks forming.

"They're fine," she replied absently then she kissed his neck. "We have to head back. Surely they've missed us by mow. Also I need to use the loo."

* * *

Molly finished up in the downstairs bathroom and waited for Sherlock, who had dashed upstairs when they'd entered the house. As she came out she ran right into Mycroft's 'date'. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

The tall woman smiled then frowned. "Good Lord, I hope Sherly's in better shape than you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Sweetheart, if you're gonna have sex at your boyfriend's parent's anniversary party, remember to carry concealer. That," She pointed to Molly's neck. "is a little bit obvious."

Molly ran back into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. "Oh God."

"It's okay. You're in luck." Lillian sat her large bag on the counter top. "Let's see, you're a LOT fairer than me, but I have some light concealer that I use under my eyes... hold on." She continued to search. "Oh, here we go." The American worked until the mark was barely visible. "And with the lighting out there no one will notice."

"Molly?" They heard Sherlock call out.

"She's in here, Curly Sue." Lillian answered.

"You're still here?" he asked the brunette.

"They haven't cut the cake yet, have they?" she said. "Don't be a brat, Sherlock. Also you owe me." She put away her make-up and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Why, because you fixed Molly's love bite? Thank you, Lillian. You are invaluable, what would we've have done without..."

"Cut it, smartass!" she interrupted. "Love bite? It's a hickey. You people make everything sound so romantic. And while I'm at it what with replacing all your z's, sorry... _zed's_ , with s's?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the woman. "You and my brother have been corresponding all these years."

"The occasional email. We stayed friends," she defended. "At any rate, I called your brother's PA." She looked at Molly and winked.

Sherlock beamed. "You're kidding? How?"

"I pick-pocketed his phone. A little trick he taught me fifteen years ago." The trio walked through the house. "Anyway, the two of them disappeared about twenty minutes ago. Soooo, you're welcome." She turned to the new couple. "Now, I'm going to run interference with your parents, don't be too long." Then she was gone.

Molly watched her go. "I like her. She's fun."

"Hmmm, she's obnoxious." He faced his new lover. "But you, you're amazing."

She giggled as he pinned her against his parents kitchen wall.

"This changes everything, you know?" Sherlock said.

"Yes, I do. Isn't it grand?"

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I just wrote myself into a Sherlolly story. But it was all in good fun! Frankly, I blame MrsMCrieff, she said I could 'pick Mycroft's date'... ummm okay! "I volunteer!" (And I get to have a secret past with the British Government... *giggles*) I had intended to make myself his 'actual date', but even in fiction I can't cheat on Mr Lil (Wow... I really love that big doofus.)
> 
> I'm ready... let me have it! Thanks so, so much for reading!~Lil~


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